XVII. Stop! for thy tread is on an empire's dust! An earthquake's spoil is sepulchred below! Is the spot marked with no colossal bust? Nor column trophied for triumphal show? None; but the moral's truth tells simpler so, As the ground was before, thus let it be;-- How that red rain hath made the harvest grow! And is this all the world has gained by thee, Thou first and last of fields! king-making Victory?